My husband allows no animals.
He says we’re gone too much.
He says it’s too big a responsibility.
We’ve decided to be less responsible,
either in this life, or the next, and
not having a cat is the
first, logical step.
So I stroke my husband
instead.
When we go walking, I look
for the 2 cats that live together
at the end of our street. They spend
a lot of time, sunning themselves on
the porch, one orange tabby, one grey,
both small curled up balls of short-haired
pleasure. I call to them. They always look up
then look away. I am not their mistress.
I have no food. No soft cuddles.
No responsibility for their survival.
I lust after the British Shorthair on the Canals.
She’s friendly and lets me photograph her.
Lets me pick her up and feel her warm belly
against my shoulder.
I plan her kidnapping each night
before I drop off to sleep.
She has no collar, but it’s obvious she belongs
to someone.
Why not me?
I imagine her devastated mistress.
I pretend that I won’t care;
that my husband won’t notice
a big, bluegrey cat, stucktight
to my left shoulder…
and we’re dancing,
dancing.
(For Luna)
All Rights Reserved
© 2009
l…ovely as always, ALexis.
A slow grin spreads thinking about Romeo. Very sensual, flirty piece…like cats. Thanks A.
tis sweet and sensual to dwell in alexis’world for a moment. merci mon amour, victoria
Beautiful and heart-felt. One of my favorites, too
Love cats, love this poem, love you! (And miss you acutely.)
Every woman should have at least one bluecat in her life.
Like the other I read, this is a very nice piece inside Alexis’ thoughts. There’s nothing like the unconditional love of a pet & to get just a few moments of a purr and a soft stroke is calming.
Very lovely imagery…”ode to bluecat” 🙂